


what’s with lesbians always having crushes on older women?

by EastOfEll



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EastOfEll/pseuds/EastOfEll
Summary: maggie lives in a foster home for four weeks while her aunt gets an adoption legalized. there, she has a math tutor.





	

when maggie is fourteen years old, she lives in a foster home for a month, because that’s how long it took for her aunt to legally adopt her.

 

so for four weeks, maggie lived in a small beach town in california. maggie doesn’t even remember the name, except what letter it started with.

 

because present (and future) maggie tampers and pushes down any feelings from those four weeks. she doesn’t like to remember the in betweens; she barely likes to remember her parents kicking her out, but it gave her her aunt, and that’s all that matters in the end. it doesn’t matter how she got there.

 

but she remembers it was lonely. she wasn’t one to make friends most of the time; knowing she’d move soon to live with her aunt anytime soon enough, she promised not to make any friends. and, of course, the _one_ time she doesn’t want to make friends, she makes one.

 

except, well, the friend is more like a study buddy. her tutor, to be precise, because maggie is terrible at algebra, so she signs up for the senior-freshman teaching program. she goes to the other girl’s house exactly four times, once a wednesday, and here’s how they go:

 

i.

maggie waits for the girl to finish softball practice before walking home with her. the town is small, enough to where it’s still bright and sunny by the time they get to her house. large, two stories, maybe even a picket fence somewhere.

 

“my mom isn’t home from work yet, but my sister, kara, she’s upstairs doing homework or chilling out. we can work on the kitchen table if you want.”

 

maggie learns three things on her first visit: her tutor’s name is alex, she likes to dip apple slices in ranch, and she can get maggie to memorize the quadratic formula with only a song.

 

ii.

 

“do you wanna stay for dinner?”

 

maggie looks up from the homework they’re working on. “what?”

 

alex blushes a little, caught. “well, word travels. i know you’re just staying here until your aunt adopts you, but i figured you’d rather have pizza or something rather than what you eat where you’re staying. i’m not a _terrible_ cook.”

 

maggie thinks. her foster family isn’t _bad_ , but they usually expect maggie to make her own meals. she’s eaten a lot of microwavable noodles in the past week and a half. “yeah, sure, okay,” she says.

 

iii.

 

maggie’s had a rough day. the word “dyke” was etched onto her desk when she sat down in it in world history. and then it was written on her folder when she went to use the restroom after the lecture portion of class was over.

 

she walks to alex’s house, alone, and knocks on the door timidly. a blonde girl wearing thick glasses opens it, an inquisitive smile on her face.

 

“oh, are you maggie?” she asks, when maggie nods, she turns her head and yells, “alex, maggie’s here!” she turns back and whispers, “i’m kara! come on in.”

 

maggie walks in, messenger bag on her shoulder and its strap gripped tightly in her hand. she sees alex at the top of the stairs, wearing glasses and athletic shorts, and her long brown hair is pulled up in a messy bun. “hey, maggie. mind if we work in my room today?”

 

alex’s room is really blue. there’s a large window in the corner, a few pots of cacti spread out on the windowsill; plastic, glow in the dark stickers are stuck to the ceiling, and maggie figures they’ve probably been there for a while. soft rock plays quietly, giving a relaxed feeling― something she definitely needs. maggie notices the flyaways in alex’s bun shine against the sunlight that peeks through the window. there’s a ton of papers strewn across her desk, and alex walks over to organize them.

 

“sorry,” alex apologizes. “chemistry.”

 

“it’s fine,” maggie says, and alex must feel something’s wrong, because as she’s moving the stack of papers, she turns around.

 

“you okay?”

 

“i… i’m just tired.”

 

“are you sure?” asks alex. “do i need to punch anyone?”

 

when maggie laughs, alex’s face grows serious. “i’m not kidding. i know you haven’t been here long, but i’m sure you’ve heard of the girl who dumped a tray of food on steven mcgregor’s head before kicking him in the groin?”

 

maggie nods. because who _hasn’t_.

 

“you’re looking at her.” and maggie’s eyes widen. alex explains as she gets another desk chair from her closet. “my sister, kara, the girl who opened the door, we adopted her a few years back. kids had a trend where they liked to mock her for her accent. i ended it. you can take your stuff out and put it on the desk, by the way.”

 

maggie feels a blush creeping up her neck as she takes out her homework folder, stark black letters displayed almost proudly against a plain yellow background, and she places it on the desk.

 

she feels ashamed when alex looks at it, when alex’s eyes are shocked for a second before filling with understanding.

 

and maggie’s never been proud of her own brown eyes, but, _god_ , alex’s make her rethink, because they’re ten times as bright and beautiful as any pair of blue eyes maggie has ever seen.

 

“it’s okay,” alex reassures her. “i know what it feels like to be different.”

 

iv.

 

the last wednesday tutoring session maggie has at alex’s house, it starts to rain.

 

and then storm.

 

the power goes out before they’re able to finish, and it’s almost 7pm.

 

“i can go,” maggie tries.

 

“don’t even think about it,” alex says. “not in this weather. you can spend the night. i’m sure your caretakers will think you’re staying over at someone’s house, anyway.”

 

“not that they’d really care that much, anyway,” maggie mumbles before she can stop herself, and she sees something akin to anger flash in alex’s eyes.

 

but, shit, maggie hasn’t spent the night at a girl’s house since eliza wilkes, how is she supposed to deal with this? the hours pass quickly and before maggie knows it they’re going to bed, and alex says:

 

“i’ll get another comforter so we each have our own on the bed. just a second.”

 

“i can sleep on the floor,” maggie says. “i don’t mind.”

 

“no way! the floor is too cold and hard. we can just share the bed. it’s a full size, we’ll both fit.”

 

and even in the dark with candles and lightning the only source of light, alex can tell maggie is on the verge of tears at this answer, and when she opens her mouth, alex interrupts her with, “maggie, i don’t care that you’re gay.”

 

maggie just ends up crying harder. alex leads her, gently, one hand between her shoulderblades, to the bed, and lets the smaller girl lean on her shoulder.

 

“my parents kicked me out,” maggie sobs. “that’s why i had to leave. that’s why my aunt’s adopting me.”

 

“it’s okay,” alex says. “just… this isn’t anything out of the ordinary, okay? just a sleepover. you’ve had sleepovers before, right?”

 

maggie, even through puffy eyes, looks at alex like she’s an idiot.

 

and alex laughs. “see, that’s what i thought. now, i’m going to go to the storage closet across the hall, and get the comforter my friend vicky uses― well... _used_ ― when she spent the night here. i’ll be gone for just a minute. and then i’ll be back. and we can go to sleep. luckily, my alarm clock is battery-powered.”

 

when alex disappears, maggie thinks that there’s a story behind alex correcting herself, but she doesn’t ask.

 

and when they’re both snuggled up in the bed, the soft rumblings of a thunderstorm and alex’s deep breathing the only noises in the room, maggie wonders.

 

_would she still be okay with this if she knew i thought she was really cute?_

 

that saturday, the adoption papers come in. maggie had been making house calls with her aunt almost every other day, and was also able to have her come down and visit every weekend, but there was nothing more relieving than knowing that this time, when she greeted and hugged aunt rosalinda, she was going home with her several cities away.

 

as the years pass, the details become fuzzy in maggie’s head until all she remember is a cute tutor and the beach, some silver lining in her black cloud of being disowned, until one afternoon, when she and her girlfriend come home from a trip to the gay bar.

 

alex closes the apartment door, out of breath from all her excitement. “there were so many men in drag,” is all she can say, wistfully.

 

“never been to a gay bar, danvers?” maggie jokes.

 

alex grabs two beers from the fridge and maggie takes that as her cue to plop on the couch and turn on netflix. “god, no, maggie. i didn’t even realize i was a lesbian until i realized i liked you. and you think i’ve been to a gay bar?”

 

when alex sits down on the couch, maggie wraps her arm behind the other woman’s shoulders. “you surprise me sometimes. i just had to make sure.”

 

alex snorts out a, “yeah, right,” before they play where they left off watching _carol_.

 

a few minutes of silence, and alex asks, “what’s with lesbians being into older women?”

 

maggie turns her attention away from the screen. “hmm?”

 

“i mean, you’re the only woman i’ve dated, so maybe i’m just stupid, but what’s with lesbians always having crushes on older women? like, teachers, or celebrities, or something. i can’t remember having crushes on any older women.”

 

maggie laughs. “i’m sure you will in time to come. i had a ton of crushes on older women as a teen.”

 

“like who?” alex asks.

 

“scully, from the x files.”

 

alex blinks, thinking for a moment, before saying, “okay. i retract my previous statement.”

 

“see? told you.” maggie pauses the movie, deciding canoodling and talking with her girlfriend was more important. “and, i mean, most of my crushes that age were unreachable; like you said, celebrities, or fictional characters, or teachers. but i did have a crush on my math tutor.”

 

“aww, that’s so cute!” alex says.

 

maggie rolls her eyes. “yeah, it was when i lived at the foster home before i could be taken in by my aunt. government had to make sure she wouldn’t give me back to my parents or whatever.” alex’s eyes soften as maggie continues. “she was… really cute, and nice. a senior, when i was a freshman. god, what was that town called again? it was so small, next to the beach. middleton, middlevale…”

 

“midvale,” alex says, her tone serious.

 

there’s a moment of silence before maggie speaks. “oh, yeah! that’s it! how’d… how’d you know?”

 

“maggie… maggie robledo.”

 

maggie’s eyes widen. “alex… how do you―”

 

“that was me. _i_ was your tutor. midvale? i grew up there.”

 

and, wow, maggie must be super good at bottling her emotions, but now, now the cork top pops and the memories come flooding out.

 

and, holy _shit_.

 

“fate works in mysterious ways,” is all maggie can say, her voice cracking (a combination of a laugh, and a cry, and pure wonder).

 

alex is looking at her warmly now. “when did you change your last name to sawyer? because i definitely would have made a connection if your name was still robledo.”

 

“i was twenty. it’s my aunt’s middle name. she died of cancer a year and a half later.”

 

“oh, baby,” alex says, and rests her chin on top of maggie’s head, holding her tight.

 

“it’s okay. i’ve had several years to live with it. she was a cop, too. i like to think she’s watching over me, content with what i do,” maggie leans into alex. “and who i’m with. you were… you were one of the only people kind to me while i was there, alex.”

 

alex hums, content, and amazed, and says a few moments after, “you know, this reminds me of when i comforted you during the thunderstorm during your last visit. i’m sad we never kept in touch.”

 

“would this be as extraordinary if we had, though?” maggie asks. “also, god, i remember that night. you were so pretty. i was so scared you were gonna find out i thought that and kick me off the bed.”

 

“you didn’t want to sleep with me because i was pretty?” alex questions.

 

maggie scoffs and looks away, hoping alex doesn’t see the slight blush on her cheeks.

 

because of this, she misses alex’s mischievous glint she gets in her eye. “so… do you _still_ not want to sleep with me because i’m pretty?”

 

maggie untangles herself from alex and shoots her a glare. “now, i never said that.”

 

“good,” alex says. “because i have a king size, now, as you know. a lot bigger than a full. it can take a lot more.”

 

“last one on the bed bottoms?” maggie says, and alex grins.

 

because maggie isn’t _stupid_. maggie sits on the bed, waits for the two or three second head start alex always “accidentally” gives her, and when alex feigns disappointment, maggie rolls her eyes.

 

“please, alex,” maggie says, “i know you better than that. just… go get the blindfold, you big lesbian.”

**Author's Note:**

> ... is carol even on netflix? asking for a friend.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoyed! find me on tumblr @sapphics! :)


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